Big Talks, Small Spaces
by JMD-009
Summary: While the crew pulls a job in Canton a recovering Xander is forced to confront his growing feelings for River. Story 3 of the 'Lost in Serenity' series.
1. Too Much Hair

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

--o--o--o--

Notes: A little later then planned but here is the next story in the Lost in Serenity Series. There won't be a lot of action in this one, no more than in the Firefly episode itself. It's mainly to develop the relationship between Xander and River, as well as Xander and the rest of the crew to a lesser extent.

The original episode itself has been largely left the same, a necessity for what I have planned for future episodes in the series. I did, however, make a point not to watch the episode so the actions and mannerisms were more my own. Also, aside from the intro and ending chapters, I tried a format of doing a flashback, then Jaynestown content, then a Xander/River scene for each chapter.

Notes 2: Takes place during the episode Jaynestown.

--o--o--o--

River walked gracefully through the halls of Serenity. Well, it was more liked danced gracefully, but it was graceful nonetheless. Clutched in her hands were a handful of papers. In places the printed words on the pages were crossed out and elegant, handwritten script was in the margins in red ink.

She really didn't understand why Book had gotten so upset when she had borrowed his Bible. River had simply been curious. She would have thought that Book, as a holy man, would encourage any interest she may have in religion and God.

It was not her fault the Bible was wrong.

The book had been filled with inconsistencies and logical fallacies that her brilliant, yet fractured, mind just could not ignore. The story of Noah's Arc had been an especially glaring example to her. There was simply no way for so many animals to fit aboard a vessel so small.

She had tried to explain that to Shepherd Book, but he hadn't understood. Nobody really did when she spoke. Well, her brother did sometimes, but he could get so caught up trying to _fix_ her that sometimes he forgot to _listen_. Xander always listened.

The limited mobility his gunshot wound left him with probably helped. It meant he couldn't run away anymore, even if the pain medicine Simon gave Xander left him groggy or asleep.

It hadn't exactly made for titillating conversation since he came back aboard. Still, River was just glad he was here.

Her thoughts turned back to the papers in her hands as she neared Shepherd Book's room. She stopped outside and called in. "Hello?"

"In here River," Book called from inside.

River stepped into the doorway, her head down as she concentrated on the words for an apology. She may not understand why he had gotten upset, but she still knew he was and River didn't want to upset anyone. "I'm... I tore these out of your symbol and they turned into paper. But I want to put them back, so-"

Book stood from the fold out sink he had been washing his face in at the same moment River looked up. She froze at the sight before her. Shepherd Book stood tall; his hair was out of its neat rows, sticking out all over the place like he just got an electric shock.

"I'm sorry, what's that?" Book asked.

River screamed, turned, and ran.

--o--o--o--

Xander groaned through clenched teeth as he struggled into the one Hawaiian shirt he had left; the one he had been wearing when he made his little jaunt through time. It was also a button up and loose, a plus when you are recovering from a gunshot wound to the back.

Of course, Xander knew that he should still be in bed. He was not close to being fully recovered from his disagreement with The Pride yet. Call him crazy, but Xander tended to get disagreeable when someone wanted to sacrifice him to a death god. He was silly like that.

If Simon were still aboard he would be having a fit seeing Xander out of bed and getting ready for the day. Fortunately for Xander, the Doctor was dirt-side with most of the others so he had a little freedom. He would just have to be careful to avoid his self appointed nurse.

Xander paused at his shirt's last button as his thoughts came around to River. He still didn't know what to feel there. There was an attraction, he wouldn't deny that anymore, but was there more to it? Something deeper, more genuine, then simple physical attraction?

It was possible.

He certainly enjoyed the conversations they had while he recovered. Xander found it easy enough to follow the broken tracks of her mind, and he had to admit he liked what he found underneath; a beautiful, intelligent, funny, witty young woman.

If they had met back during high school he… well, he probably would have been too intimidated to ask her out, but he would have thought about it!

True their talks were often short, he would conk out quickly from the meds or his latest escape attempt, but he found himself enjoying them all the same. It was River who did most of the talking in their brief conversations, on a wide range of topics from quantum physics that he didn't understand to that day's lunch he really didn't want to eat. She never stayed on one subject long; her addled mind not being able to focus on one long enough for an in-depth discussion. Though Xander's own, debatably, healthy mind tended to jump track a fair bit itself so he kept up well enough.

Xander particularly liked it when she randomly shared stories of her childhood and the pranks she pulled on Simon. That could usually get him to share a funny, albeit edited, story of Willow, Jesse, and him growing up.

A scream brought Xander out of his thoughts and he was moving before he consciously realized it. The pain was distant in his mind, ignored as fear griped him. That was River's voice.

As Xander made it to the hall he saw River running towards him on silent bare feet. She didn't slow as she approached him, not even as she brushed past him in the narrow hall of the passenger dorms. River just latched onto one of his hands and tugged him along with her.

As they past a confused Zoe, Xander looked back and it became clear what had frightened River; he wasn't immune himself. Book poked his head out of his room, his hair looking like Albert Einstein after he got struck by lightning.

With the danger apparently nonexistent the adrenaline started to wear off. Even with the adrenaline Xander had been limping. By the time they reached the other end of the cargo bay River was practically dragging him.

When she let go of his hand to pry off a panel Xander had to brace himself against the wall. He was breathing hard as River started pushing him into the small crawlspace she had uncovered.

As he allowed himself to be manhandled into one of the ship's little nooks Xander's thoughts turned to the rest of crew. _I wonder if Mal and the others are having a better day than mine's turning out to be_.

--o--o--o--

"Jayne?" Mal asked the large man next to him who was trying his best to keep his face hidden.

"Yeah?"

"You want to tell me how come there's a statue of you here looking at me like I owe him something?"


	2. Any Other Day

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

--o--o--o--

**Ten Days Ago**

Simon closed the door as quietly as he could, managing only a soft click as the latch caught. He stood there a moment, thoughtful expression on his face, before he sighed and rolled his shoulders and headed down the hall.

River was going to be mad at him. Well, perhaps more annoyed than mad, but she certainly would not be happy. Simon could live with that. It wouldn't be the first time and wouldn't be the last either. That was just part of being siblings, questionable mental stability or not.

The simple fact was that she needed _real_ rest in a _real_ bed. So when River had fallen asleep in the med bay, half on her stool and half sprawled on his patient, Simon had taken his chance. With gentleness born of years of practice he lifted her into his arms and carried her to her room without causing her to stir.

He hadn't even given a second thought to how he found her. She had barely left Xander's side since he was brought back onboard; leaving him only long enough for Simon to do his job before she was at the bedside again. At the time it had been easy to quell the overprotective brother in him. When the unconscious and bloody body had been placed before him Simon had gone straight into doctor mode. Afterwards he just couldn't muster up the energy to worry about it.

Plus, as he had told Xander, he had never actually blamed the boy. No matter how much he had wanted to.

He still remembered River's words when Xander had walked away on Beaumonde. Simon had asked why she had married Xander and River had told him that she thought they could heal each other. Who knows, maybe they could. He remembered the haunted look, the pain that was in his eyes when Xander had spoken of that Willow girl.

Nobody deserved such torment, let alone someone who hadn't even reached twenty.

There was even a part of Simon that hoped the younger man would stay this time. These past few days were the most lucid, the most normal, that he had seen River in a long time. He had _seen_ what good he was for his sister. Imagine what he could do for her conscious and less doped.

Sure it wounded his pride some, but he could live with it. After all, he couldn't walk down every step to recovery with her. River needed other people she could depend on if she was ever going to live a halfway normal life again. The crew of Serenity had been good for her, for the most part, but she seemed to have connected with Xander on a whole other level. To be honest, at this point Simon was willing to take any help he could get.

Right now he was just wishing there was more he could do for the man.

Xander had been lucky. Not the getting shot in the back part, that had been decidedly unlucky, but he was fortunate that the damage hadn't been too extensive. If he had still been at Capital City General with the latest in medical technology at his fingertips it wouldn't have been a problem at all. But he didn't, and even without it the surgery went by without any complications.

It was a point of pride for Simon that he could still perform his duties with the more traditional tools of his trade. Many of his peers in the Core would be lost without their laser scalpels and scanners. Simon had always found it sad that the tried and true medical practices were slowly going to the wayside. Sure they were still taught at the medical schools, but they were rarely something a Core World doctor would ever have to rely on.

Simon, though, had soaked up that knowledge. When he had first entered medical school he had been as idealistic as anyone else his age. It had been his dream back then to open a small clinic outside the Core. Perhaps not way out on the Rim, but somewhere his skills would be needed more.

Then he had done his residency and became a trauma surgeon at Capital City General and still planned to move once he had saved enough. It hadn't been long until he had simply grown used to the money and the status and it had been so easy just to stay and put childish dreams aside.

Then he had gotten River's coded letter. Who'd have thought that childhood dreams could prepare him for a life on the run? Yes, it came in very handy indeed. Xander was only the latest to benefit from those skills.

As it was Simon expected a full recovery. Xander would just have to take it easy for a while and perhaps a crutch or cane to ease some of the stress on the healing wound for a few weeks. He just wished he could do something for the nightmares that seemed to torment the man whenever he wasn't doped into a dreamless sleep.

It reminded Simon far too much of some of River's worse evenings for his comfort.

The similarity in his mind had caused a great deal of sleep loss for him. Simon had made a habit of checking in on him several more times a night that was perhaps strictly necessary. There wasn't much he could do really. Make him a little more comfortable, check if the pain meds needed adjusting, and that was about it. It didn't stop him from going.

It turned out he wasn't the only one tonight.

Simon was nearly knocked to the ground when Jayne came barrelling through the med bay doors and walked on without so much as a grunt of apology. It was all Simon could do to bite down a retort, though he was less concerned with antagonizing Jayne as waking his patient.

What was Jayne doing there at this time of night anyways?

Curiously Simon peered through the door. He blinked in surprise to see Xander sleeping peacefully for the first time since he had come back aboard the ship. His eyes were drawn to an object leaning against the bed with Xander's hand wrapped tightly around it like a lifeline.

At that point the only thought going through Simon's mind was, _Why is there an axe in my med bay?_

--o--o--o--

**Now**

It was supposed to have been a fairly easy job. Go to Higgin's Moon, pose as buyers to avoid suspicion, and slip out with their cargo when they had the chance. So, of course, nothing could go as planned.

For starters, their contact got himself in a bit of trouble with the local magistrate. The kind of trouble that gets a man's hands and feet hacked off and rolled into the bog. On the plus side they got themselves a new contact and the job was still a go.

It's the second issue that shot the whole plan to hell and made Mal's mind boggle. Jayne was apparently a folk hero. All for accidentally dropping a case of cash on the town. Not that they knew the accidental part, but the whole town recognizing him kind of threw a wrinkle in the plan.

Now Mal watched Jayne get handed the good stuff from the bartender and surrounded by a crowd of locals singing his theme song (Mal didn't even want to go there) and was trying to figure out what plan B was.

He hadn't got very far when someone grabbed his arm and spun him around. It was all Mal could do to keep his hand away from his pistol. "'What the hell is goin' on?" his well-dressed and decidedly annoyed contact hissed lowly. "This how people lay low where you're from?!"

Seeing as the man had a legitimate concern Mal decided to let him get away with that. This time at least. He glanced over at Jayne with a woman under each arm, a bottle in both hands and eating up the attention from the crowd. "Not generally, no."

"Listen, friend," the man spat out lowly. "I came here to make sure a deal went down solid, not to get chopped up by the Canton prod crew and fed to the bog!"

Mal pulled his arm free. "Understand your concerns, _friend_. But this here is all part of our new plan." With that Mal gave the man a little shove towards the door and shot him a look that clearly said the discussion was over.

"Captain?" Kaylee asked as they watched the contact walk away. "How exactly is this part of our–"

"Still workin' the details."

--o--o--o--

On the outside Inara was the picture of politeness and patience. On the inside she wanted to slap Magistrate Higgins up side the head and throw him out of her shuttle. She figured that was Mal's influence on her. Fortunately she was better trained than to give in to such impulses

"What is this?" Higgins asked gesturing to the china and tea set out on a low table. "I brought you here to bed my son, not throw him a tea party."

Mentally Inara counted to ten. She was a Companion, not a whore. But she'd dealt with men like this before, many times. Polite but firm was often the best way.

"Sir," she said patiently. "The Companion Greeting Ceremony is a ritual with centuries of tradition behind it. There are reasons for the way we do things."

Higgins was having none of it. "Listen, Inara, I called on you for one thing and one thing only. My son is twenty-six years old and he ain't yet a man. Twenty-six!" Again Inara was tempted to slap the look of contempt he shot his son off his face. "And since he can't find a willin' woman himself–"

Inara had had about as much of the Magistrate as she could take and decided the man was going to require a more hands on approach. Gracefully crossing the distance between them she took his arm in hers in an escorting gesture and firmly guides him towards the door. The look on his face was almost comical as he allows her to move him. The whole point had been to catch him off guard, as she doubted she could have done this so diplomatically if he hadn't been.

"Mr. Higgins, you are not allowed here," Inara told him with a note of finality in her voice.

"I– What?" Higgins was obviously still off balanced. A man like him would be unused to someone taking charge of him, even subtly, and especially a woman.

"As I said, this room is a consecrated place of union. Only your son belongs here."

The Magistrate was still sputtering as Inara led him out the door. "Well! This is– I–"

"Now you go on, and let us begin our work."

"Now you listen here, young lady–" Higgins started, standing as tall as he could and staring down at her, apparently having finally collected himself.

Inara just flashed him her most innocent, sweet smile and closed the door. "Goodnight, Mr. Higgins," she called through the door.

--o--o--o--

Simon was plastered and Kaylee was enjoying every minute of it. He was a lot looser when he had a buzz going, and he definitely had one going now. Kaylee didn't even think he realized how intimate their position looked; him sprawled in a large chair and her sitting on the arm, practically in his lap, leaning into him.

The Doctor's voice was slurred and he raised his glass to punctuate random words as he spoke, the drink threatening to slosh over the rim with every motion. "You know, I've saved lives. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. I reattached a girl's leg. Her whole leg. She named her hamster after me. I got a hamster. He drops a box of money, he gets a town."

Kaylee giggled at his antics. She had a bit of a buzz going herself, but not nearly as much as Simon. After the statue, the song, and Jayne's fans, Simon was doing two or three rounds to her one. She was actually surprised he could hold his liquor so well.

And she really didn't see what the big deal was. Sure Jayne got a town's adoration for what really was just a well-aimed accident, but she thought Simon's story was cute and she smiled at him. "Hamsters' nice."

Simon seemed not to hear her and raised his glass and spoke loudly. "To Jayne! The box dropping, man-ape-gone-wrong-thing, hero of Mudville."

She shook her head and laughed nearly as loud, but nonetheless clinked her glass with his in a toast. With another laugh Kaylee brushed his bangs away from his face. "You know, you're pretty funny, even without cussin'."

Simon downed the rest of his glass and smiled up at her. "You know, you're pretty... pretty."

Kaylee's eyes went wide and her mouth formed an 'o'. Had he really just said that? "What?" she asked seriously. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," Simon told her, still smiling drunkenly up at her. "Just that you're pretty. Even when you're covered with engine grease, you're– Maybe 'specially when you re covered with engine grease, you're–"

"It's time to get out of this nuthouse," Mal said coming up beside them and complete missing the brief flash of annoyance on Kaylee's face at interrupting Simon's compliments. "Got some plannin' to work out."

"Now, Captain? But things are goin' so _well_!" Kaylee said with emphasis on the last word hoping Mal would get the point.

"Um. I suppose, Jayne's certainly feelin' better about life. But we–"

Kaylee interrupted Mal with a pointed look and repeated, "I said things are _goin'_ _well_!"

"Oh. Well," Mal drew out, finally getting the mechanics point. "Well... I tell you what. Jayne's stuck here with his adoring masses. How about you and Simon hang around, keep an eye on him for me?"

Simon raised his glass in drunken salute and Kaylee gave him a brilliant smile.

--o--o--o--

"River?" Xander heard Book call, signalling that the shepherd was about to try yet again to coax the girl out of the crawlspace. Definitely not something Xander would be opposed to. These spaces weren't exactly built with comfort in mind under the best of conditions yet alone two weeks after you've been shot in the back. He'd been sore when River had first pushed him in here but had been getting steadily worse as his pain meds started to wear off. As River buried her face in his chest at the sound of the voice Xander knew he'd grit and bare it for her.

"Please," the Shepherd continued. "Why don't you come on out?"

"No," River called back muffled by his shirt but it was still the first she had spoken since dragging him here. "Can't. Too much hair."

Xander could just imagine the surprise on the man's face even before his stumbled words reached him. "Is– Is that it?"

Apparently Zoe was around for this attempt and he heard her voice filled with more amusement than he remembered hearing from the normally serious woman before. "Hell yes, preacher. If I didn't have stuff to get done, I'd be in there with them."

"It's the rules of my order. Like the book, it symbolizes–" Book started and Xander wondered if the shepherd actually thought an explanation why would actually matter to her at this point. Maybe later she'd listen, but not right now. Even Xander could admit that it had startled the hell out of him too.

Fortunately Zoe came to their rescue and cut Book off. "Uh-huh. River, honey, he's putting the hair away now."

"Doesn't matter. It'll still be there... waiting."

Xander had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Even with her head in his chest blocking her view she apparently still knew and he yelped softly as she pinched his side in retaliation. He was about to say something that would probably get him pinched again when loud footsteps and a louder voice came to his rescue. He made a note to do something nice for the pilot later.

"Honey, we're home!" Wash proclaimed piercingly, drawing everyone's attention. Even River had raised her head despite that fact the pilot couldn't be seen through small opening.

"Where've you guys been?" he heard Zoe ask. "Mal, Bernoulli's chompin' at the bit. Says he wants his merchandise yesterday."

"Yeah, well, we got a couple of wrinkles to work out on the deal."

That was when Wash apparently decided to elaborate for the captain. "Did you know Jayne is a bonafide folk hero? Got a song and everything."

"Hoo-tsuh," Zoe retorted and that one Xander knew was something like 'shut up' and could imaging the look she was giving Wash at the moment. "You been drinkin', husband?" Fair question. Xander was wondering that himself."

"That he has," Mal confirmed. "Don't make it any less the case."

"You're telling me Jayne is a–" Xander couldn't blame her for not being able to get the whole sentence out. Jayne didn't exactly strike him as the hero type. Sure the man had saved his life on Beaumonde, but Xander had the feeling he had been somewhat bullied into it by this 'Glowy Lady'. Not that he would complain either way. He'd gotten used to this living thing and planned to do it for as long as possible.

"It's true. True enough to use, anyways," Mal told her. "We've talked a few pillars of the Mudder community into havin' a little 'Jayne Day' celebration in town square tomorrow. That should buy us enough distraction to get those stolen goods out from under the foreman and his crew a' prods."

"You're really gonna have to start again." Xander agreed. This was one story he wanted to hear from the beginning.

"Shepherd, everything goin' ok?" Mal asked, apparently noticing Book and the open panel for the first time.

"I, uh, I'm working on it, Captain."

"We need a snow shovel," River said suddenly.

Xander craned his neck and saw Mal crouch down and look in at them. He gave the Captain a grin and a little wave.

Mal just shook his head and stood up. "Any other day that would seem odd."


	3. Can I Keep You?

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

--o--o--o--

**Nine Days Ago**

"How's our patient doing Doctor?" Mal asked as he strolled into the infirmary.

The younger man looked up sharply from his conversation with Kaylee, but recovered quickly. Coolly Simon responded with, "Why? Eager to have him discharged and travel ready?"

"Just need him well enough to tell a story Doc," Mal said, letting the snark slide for the moment. "I'm still not convinced Jayne didn't catch crazy."

"I was never convinced of Jayne's mental stability to begin with."

"Simon!" Kaylee exclaimed. "That was mean. Jayne's a big teddy bear." Then she paused and thought for a second. "A teddy bear who likes guns and hurting people, but still a teddy bear!"

The two men shared a look. Only Kaylee could get away with calling Jayne a teddy bear and sound sincere doing it.

"Sorry," the Doctor muttered. Mal could tell he was anything but, but Kaylee seemed satisfied.

"Xander?" Mal questioned to get things back on track, if only so he didn't have to watch his mechanic and his doctor make mooneyes at each other.

"He's awake," Simon said gesturing to the wall bed tucked next to the door he had just come through.

River sat on a nearby stool with the young man's hand held in her own. It struck Mal just how much she looked like a normal girl comforting her injured lover. Creeped him out a bit too, truth be told.

"I'm not sure how much you will get out of him though," Simon continued. "I had to dope him pretty good."

At that moment Xander turned towards Mal furrowed his brow. "Your pants are really tight," he stated with complete seriousness, if in somewhat slurred speech. "That just hasta be uncomfortable."

Then Xander's gaze left the Captain and settled on his hand, as if just realizing another was held in it. His eyes followed the trail to an arm and a shoulder, then from a neck to a face, until finally focussing on a pair of brown eyes. "I like River's eyes," he stated abruptly, in what Mal was sure was a perfectly logical change of subject to him. "They're so expressive and… and brown… and… pretty. River's pretty. Really, pretty. Really, really, really, very pretty."

Mal turned back to the doctor who looked like he was trying his hardest not to laugh. "Did I mention I had to give him nearly twice the normal dose just to get him to stay in bed?"

The innocent tone didn't fool Mal one bit. He was about to tell Simon exactly what he was thinking when he felt a tug on his sleeve. River looked up at him with large, innocent eyes.

"He followed me home," she told him earnestly. "Can I keep him?"

Kaylee giggled. "River, sweetie, he's not a puppy."

This, of course, caused her to catch Xander's attention and him to say, "Kaylee's pretty too."

She rounded on Mal with her best puppy dog eyes look. "Can we keep him Cap'n? Huh, huh, can we?"

--o--o--o--

**Now**

Magistrate Higgins stood in front of the fireplace, a glass of expensive brandy in his hand and contemplative look on his face. There were pictures and a few antiques on the mantle, but he wasn't looking at any of it. His eyes were unfocused, lost to his thoughts.

He didn't even look up when one of his servants led in the Mudder foreman, a tall, bald man with dirt smears on his face. "Magistrate Higgins–" the foreman started, but the magistrate wasn't listening.

"M'son's out there," he said absently. "I pray to God losin' his cherry."

The Foreman just shrugged at the abrupt comment. He knew the Magistrate had said it more to himself than to him. Normally when the Magistrate was distracted like this the best thing, and the healthiest, was to just leave it be. Still, this was something he needed to hear. "There's a problem in worker-town, sir."

Higgins turned as if noticing the Foreman for the first time.

"Jayne Cobb's come back."

--o--o--o--

He'd been staring into his tea for quite awhile now, seemingly too embarrassed to look up at her. It was nerves, Inara noted and she wasn't surprised. Many people were nervous their first time with a Companion, yet alone their first time period.

Fess wasn't an unattractive man. Tall, blond, and well kept, and even through the loose clothes Inara could tell he was in good shape. Not that she would ever choose a client based on something so shallow as appearance, but it certainly helped. A fortuitous bonus, as it were.

It was his gentle soul that had drawn her here and had her accept the invitation. With that sense of innocent, an intelligent mind, and his looks, she almost found it hard to believe he had never been with a woman. Almost.

He wasn't the type for casual, meaningless sex and Inara highly doubted the shallow opportunists of his father's court would hold his interest enough for a real relationship. She doubted anyone of Higgins' Moon would. At least, none that his father would allow him to associate with.

In truth, she doubted Fess would even be here now if it hadn't been for his father's prodding.

"It's just, my father's always been so in control, of everything; of me, of everyone. I could never be like him, no matter who he pays to–" Fess cut himself off from his ramble and finally looked up at her. He gave her an embarrassed smile, like he couldn't believe he had just said that. He held her gaze for barely a moment before he blushed and turned away. "I'm sorry. This whole thing, it is embarrassing. My father's right again, I guess. And to have to bring you here, to…"

He trailed off as Inara gently took the cup from his hands and replaced it with her own. She hated the way his father seemed to tear him down and make him feel like less than he was. It was time she enlightened him on a few things.

"Your father isn't right, Fess," she told him softly. "It's not embarrassing to be a virgin. It's simply one state of being. And as far as bringing me here, Companions choose the people they're to be with very carefully. For example, if your father asked me to come here for _him_, I wouldn't have."

"Really?" Fess asked in surprise, a note of curiosity in his voice.

"Really, Fess. But you're different from him," Inara told him and lightly stroked his cheek with one hand. He swallowed deeply as Inara held his gaze. "The more you accept that, the stronger you'll become."

--o--o--o--

Jayne leaned heavily against a wooded support beam, a buxom brunette staring at him adoringly under one arm and a fresh bottle in both hands. After taking a swig from both bottles he turned back to the kid that had been following him around all night. He couldn't have been older than that Xander kid the Glowy Lady made him help, probably younger even. Normally being followed like that would piss him off, but Jayne liked the hero worship in the kid's eyes. The copious amounts of alcohol probably helped too.

"So the Magistrate, he let you folks keep all that cash?"

The kid, Jayne forgot his name, nodded excitedly. "He did. And it pained him, that's for dead sure. When he found out, he sent his prods in to take it back from us but the workers resisted."

"Fought the law, eh?" Jayne completely missed the satisfied smile on the kid's face at his approving tone.

"If the Mudders are together on a thing, there's too many of us to be put down. So in the end, he just called it a bonus."

"One hell of a bonus," Jayne laughed, pulling the brunette in for a drunken, sloppy kiss.

"And then, when we put that statue of you up in town square, he rolled in, wanted to tear it down. But the whole town rioted."

Jayne's head snapped back up and his eyes actually misted up at the idea. "You guys started a riot? On account of me?" He gushed. "Wow, I am truly touched; truly, truly touched by that. I mean, all of this has been swell and all, but that, my very own _riot_; that's just about the nicest thing I ever heard!"

"I can't believe you're back!"

Jayne threw his free arm around the kid and pulled him and the brunette into a bear hug. "How could I stay away?"

--o--o--o--

Magistrate Higgin's footsteps on the wooden planks echoed loudly through the marsh. Dozens of small metal boxes lined the docks, but he paid them no heed. It wasn't until he reached the end of the row that he stopped and knocked on the last of the rusted metal boxes. "Evening, Stitch."

"What do you want with me?" a voice called from inside. The sound was tinny from the metallic echo, but also hoarse, like a person badly in need of some water.

"Nothing," Higgins told him and nodded for the Foreman to unlock the door. "You've done your time. Paid your debt. Time you were on your way."

A tall man crawled his way out of the box. He stumbled trying to stand and used his former prison to hold himself upright. His long, dirty hair and beard formed a feral mane around his head and half his face was covered in ugly scars. He glared at his captor with his one remaining eye.

"Here," Higgins said, completely unfazed as he took a bag from the Foreman and handed it to Stitch. "I believe these were your personal affects."

Stitch snatched the bag from his hand and looked through it. He pulled the item on top out and examined it before staring at the Magistrate disbelievingly. "You keep me in that box four years and then give me a loaded gun?"

Higgins nodded but didn't look particularly worried. "Got the urge to use it, no doubt. But I'm not the one that brought you in on that robbery. I'm not the one who partnered up with you and then turned on you when his plan went south. How high up was that shuttle when he pushed you out? Thirty feet?" he asked knowingly. "Jayne Cobb cost you four years of your life, plus a perfectly good eyeball. And here's the poetical portion. He's back in town. This very day."

With a nod to the Foreman, Higgins started back down the dock. He didn't even flinch when he heard the gun cock. Instead he called over his shoulder, "Best of luck in your new life."

--o--o--o--

It was late. Not that he was in a position to check a clock or a window to confirm it, but Xander still knew it must be. It had been a long while since anyone had come to coax River out.

They failed, obviously, though Xander doubted it had anything to do with the fright that Book's hair had put in her. No, River seemed quite comfortable where she was. When the last person - Shepherd Book again - had tried all River had done was mumble something so low even Xander didn't catch it and cuddle further into his chest like he was her own Xander-shaped teddy bear. She hadn't moved since.

He didn't mind in the least.

In the year he had been in this time, Xander had held pretty much everyone at arms length. After being basically alone for so long it felt good to hold someone in his arms again.

River – despite all of her eccentricities, or perhaps because of them – had managed to worm her way past all his defences. He found that he truly did care for the girl. It astonished and scared him how quickly that had happened. There was just something about her that drew him to her.

He had spent those first days on Serenity avoiding her, but a part a part of him was awed that such a beautiful and witty creature of grace would want to pursue him. It was nice to be the one being chased and not the one doing the chasing for a change.

As that thought ran through his head Xander felt something. It was miniscule and he nearly dismissed it as his imagination, but he knew better. He looked down as he felt River's lips curl upwards against his chest. His first thought was that she was simply having a good dream. Then he realized her breathing wasn't quite as even as someone asleep. It was remarkably close, and if he hadn't been looking for it he never would have noticed, but he did and now he knew he'd been had.

"Fibber," Xander said softly, just in case he was wrong.

River just craned her neck and looked at him with an unrepentant grin. Then the grin was gone and she reached up and stroked his cheek briefly before returning the hand to its place on his chest. Whatever she had on her mind now Xander knew was important.

She looked up at him with innocent, pleading eyes and asked, "Can I keep you?"


	4. Four Little Words

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

--o--o--o--

**Eight Days Ago**

It was a searing pain that jolted Xander awake. It was an experience he was starting to get used to. He was used to sleeping on his back and all it took was rolling over in his sleep, particularly when his meds were running out, and Xander was quickly brought back to the waking world. It didn't interrupt things too much anymore though. After a week he just rolled over and went back to sleep.

It took him a minute after he closed his eyes for his sleep-hazed mind to put the pieces together. He'd rolled over trying to react to a noise. For barely a moment he considered just ignoring it. He was tired, sore, and frankly a little cranky too. Sunnydale and possession born experience tossed that notion aside almost as quickly as it came to his mind.

Slower than he would have like Xander turned his head towards the source and blinked his eyes into focus.

"Mornin'," Mal said from the open doorway of his cabin.

Xander just stared at the man for a long moment before tiredly replying, "Morning."

"We need to have us a little chat."

With a barely suppressed groan, Xander pulled himself up to a sitting position. He really didn't want to do this right now, but he figured he was lucky the Captain had waited this long.

Mal pulled up a chair Xander had never noticed was even in the room before and straddled it. They stared at each other for a while as they gathered their thoughts. Xander wondering how much truth he had to spin to satisfy the Captain and Mal how much truth he could get from the younger man.

Finally Mal cleared his throat and jumped right into it. "Jayne had something of a tale to tell. Had chases, explosions, and wildlife to boot."

"Sounds like a good one."

"Thing was, it was missin' the opening act," Mal went on, letting the comment pass. "Care to share?"

"Not really." One look at Mal's face told him what he thought of that and Xander quickly added, "But I will."

After Xander was quiet for another minute Mal prompted, "Well?"

"I'm thinking," Xander told him as he gathered his thoughts before meeting Mal's gaze. "I was just a delivery boy. Really it all boils down to a delivery gone bad."

"And Jayne's… bear?" Xander nearly laughed at the way Mal hesitated to even ask about something so absurd and he figured he would save the big guy's reputation a little.

"Yah, not sure where it came from, but it sure looked like a bear to me." Technically true. He wasn't sure what was up with these therianthropes. The only were-creatures he had heard of before were werewolves and they need the full moon to change.

"Really," Mal asked, some doubt in his voice but mostly surprise. Apparently he really had thought Jayne was pulling his chain at that part. Then Mal shook his head slightly and a neutral expression was back on his face. "And?"

Xander shrugged. "And that's pretty much it. Jayne somehow found me and saved my life and the rest I figure you know already."

"That simple?"

"Guess so."

The way Mal eyed him after that made Xander squirm. It was like the man was taking his measure and deciding if he was up to his standard.

"You don't strike me as the type to get involved with the likes of The Pride. Makes me wonder what could be so important you'd do just that," Mal finally said.

"It's a horrible birth defect actually," Xander only half joked. "I was born with no sense of self-preservation."

"That I can believe," Mal shot back and Xander wasn't sure if he should be insulted or not, but he never really had a chance to think about it either. Mal switched gears again and pinned him with a serious stare. "Fact is you probably made a powerful enemy there. You'd be safer on the move. We never stop movin'."

Xander couldn't believe it. The Captain was offering him a place on the ship again? He wouldn't lie, it was temping. Very tempting. But could he? He had been unconscious too much to have really thought about the situation all that much. The Pride had been his last hope at getting home and now that was gone. It tore him up in the brief times he had to dwell on it, but maybe it was time to move on.

Oh, he would never give up looking for a way back, but maybe he could find a place here. "I–," Xander started to say he would stay only for the words to get stuck in his throat. If he did make friends and a life here it would only make it harder to leave later. It was possible he would have as much heartache leaving this life behind as he would with his old one.

He had no idea what to do, so he just swallowed loudly and tried to cover his slip. "I definitely made enemies. I threw a bowl of flaming coals in Anton Walker's face."

Mal winced, "That'll do it." Then he stood and clapped him on the shoulder. From the look he was getting Xander knew his slip hadn't gone unnoticed and the Captain was reading his indecision like an open book. "Think about it. You're not goin' anywhere with that bullet hole anyways."

As Mal reached the doorway Xander's quiet voice stopped him. "I won't talk about my past."

"Will it come back to bite us?"

Xander thought about that for a second. It was unlikely, seeing as his past was the distant past. The only thing that might come back at him Mal already knew about. "No," he said simply.

"Then I won't ask."

"I'll think about it."

--o--o--o--

**Now**

"You're very quiet," Inara noted and turned on her side to look at him better.

"I'm sorry." Fess lay with his head pillowed in his hands, staring up at the ceiling. He spared her a glance before turning his gave back upward and Inara caught the confusion in his face. "I'm just– I just thought I'd feel... different, after. Aren't I supposed to be a _man_ now?

Inara smiled kindly. She thought as much. Everyone had a picture of their first time and reality was often very different. Sometimes it was better, sometimes worst, but still different nonetheless. After everything his father likely fed into his mind a part of Fess probably expected some epiphany, some life changing knowledge of what it meant to be a _man_. His father's notion of one at least. Oh, it probably wasn't a conscious notion, but it was there nonetheless and likely the source of his confusion.

"A man's just a boy who's old enough to ask that question," she told him. "Our time together, it's a ritual, a symbol. It means something to your father." She turned Fess' face towards her and smiled playfully. "I hope it was not entirely forgettable for you."

She found it adorable the way his face reddened and he stammered, "Oh, no, it wasn't."

Inara smiled brightly at him and continued. "But it doesn't make you a man. That you do yourself."

Fess seemed to thing over her words and was about to speak when a loud banging on the shuttle door interrupted them. It was all Inara could do to repress the sigh as she heard the voice that filtered inside.

"Fess! Fess Higgins, get out here!"

--o--o--o--

Simon woke up slowly. His white button up shirt was half undone and he felt fingers lightly dancing across his skin. It felt nice, so nice that for a few minutes he refused to open his eyes and just luxuriated in the feeling and the warmth of a body pressed up against his. Finally he opened his eyes and blurredly looked down at Kaylee, smiling down at her.

She smiled back. "Hiya, Captain," she said absently and laid her head back down before she seemed to process the words that had just left her mouth. Her eyes went wide and her head shot up. "_Captain_!"

That woke Simon up better than the cold water River used when they were kids and he slept later than her liking. "Wha–? Kaylee? Mal? Mal, I– uh..." Not the most eloquent words to ever leave his mouth, but he was more concerned with not getting shot if Mal thought he had taken advantage of Kaylee.

He stood up fast, nearly bawling Kaylee onto the floor, and spun around to face the Captain. The fact that the chair was between him and Mal was a fortunate coincidence, really. "Captain, nothing happened. There was some drinking, but… We certainly didn't… I mean, I would _never_," he added vehemently. "Not with Kaylee, I – I assure you, nothing inappropriate took place."

"What do you mean, not with me?" Kaylee said and slapped the vest he had been wearing the night before into his chest hard enough to sting. Simon took his eyes off Mal, remembering why he had been trying to placate the Captain to begin with. The heat in her words Simon could live with, it was the hurt in Kaylee's eyes that struck him the hardest. Why was it even in half asleep, panicked ramblings he still managed to say the exact worst thing?

He was about to try and apologize when Mal interrupted. "Uh-huh," and Simon didn't know if the tone was more teasing or disbelieving. "Where's my hero?"

"He robbed from the rich, and gave to the poor, stood up to The Man, and gave him what for." Everyone turned at the sound of horribly off key singing to see Jayne coming downstairs with the brunette they had seen him with the night before. Simon had never been so glad to see the big man-ape before.

"The living legend needs eggs!" Jayne called over to the bartender. "Or another 'milk, maybe."

Mal shook his head. "No. The living legend is comin' with us. He has a little appearance to make."

Jayne looked over at them confused. "He does?"

"That's right," Mal told him. "This job here has gone way past long enough."

"You go on, now," Jayne said to the brunette with a firm swat on the backside. "Got me important hero-type stuff to do."

Jayne fell into step with Mal towards the door, Kaylee close behind. Simon started to follow only for her to round on him. If looks could kill… well, Simon didn't want to think about it. "Where're _you_ goin'?" Okay, apparently Jayne wasn't enough of a distraction.

"What? I'm coming with you," he tried only for Kaylee to poke him hard in the chest.

"I don't think so. No, maybe you ought to stay here. It's about the time for a civilized person to have his breakfast. That's the sorta thing would be _appropriate_, don't you think?"

Simon looked over Kaylee's shoulder to see Mal shrug and Jayne grinning, apparently enjoying seeing him in trouble. No help there. He could only watch as Kaylee turned around and walked briskly past them and Mal shrug again before following.

"See you on the ship, Doc."

--o--o--o--

"A criminal hearing?" Inara asked as she started placing the tea set on a tray to be put aside and cleaned later.

"My father's ordered me to attend," Fess told her. "See, there was this man. It happened when I was growing up here. He stole a ton of money from my Dad, and gave it to the poor, to my father's workers. And he's become kind of a folk hero in Canton."

"Go on," Inara prompted when he paused.

"Well, he's back," Fess said and she could see a light in his eyes like that of a child talking about their hero. "Apparently he landed here yesterday."

Inara came up short as she stood with the tray. "Yesterday?" she asked, though she said it more to herself than to Fess. She shook her head and sighed. What had Mal got himself into this time?

"Oh, no," Inara said catching Fess' eye. "I know this man. He's– he just has this idiotic sense of nobility, you know? He can never just let things be. He thinks he's this hard-hearted criminal," then she reluctantly admitted, "And he can be unrelenting, but there's a side to him that is so–"

Fess never let her finish and interrupted her excitedly. "You mean you actually know Jayne?"

The dishes clanked loudly as Inara's grip loosened on the tray. She stared wide-eyed and it was only luck that she was able to shift the tray to a more stable grip. Not many things could get past her composure anymore, or at least she didn't show it. Her years of Companion training saw to that. Jayne Cobb as a folk hero was apparently one of the few things that could cause her to show genuine shock. "Jayne? Jayne Cobb? You're talking  
about Jayne Cobb."

If Fess noticed, he didn't say anything. Given the enthusiastic look on his face he probably didn't. "Yes. Jayne Cobb, the Hero Of Canton. The only person I ever saw who stood up to my father." Then the smile was off his face and he stood, pacing the length of the shuttle and back. "My Dad traced him back to his ship. He had Port Control put a land-lock on it. Jayne'll get back and find out he's grounded. I sort of hate the idea of his getting caught."

"Yes," Inara agreed, staring blankly ahead. She still wasn't certain she had heard him right. "That would be bad."

--o--o--o--

"Heard tell you run with Jayne Cobb," a voice called from the door and Simon looked up from the plate of food he was trying to decide if he was hungry enough to call edible. He squinted in the light that filtered in the door, silhouetting the figure so he couldn't get a clear look.

"Excuse me?" Simon asked.

The man ignored his question and briskly crossed the distance between them. Simon automatically took in the missing eye and scarred face, noting in the back of his mind that the wound was never treated properly. Most of his attention, however, was grabbed by the shotgun slung over his shoulder.

"You're gonna take me to that dirty low-down shingle of a man," he demanded, his tone making it clear there was no alternative.

"Listen, 'sir'," Simon said as he pushed his chair out and stood. "I don't know who you  
think you–"

The man cut him off with a viciously backhand that knocked him to the ground and a coppery taste filled his mouth.

"Sir!?" he yelled angrily and kicked the him hard in the ribs. "Look at me, ya' pantywaist idjit! I just spent the last four years steamin' in a hotbox and you're sirrin' me?"

The man kicked him again, the blow knocking Simon from his hands and knees to his back. He reached down and yanked hard on the Doctor's hair and dragged him to his feet. Simon yelped in pain and his hands flailed behind him. He made a triumphant noise in the back of his throat when his fingers touched a bottle.

"Folks say you're part a' Jayne's team. So," he said and shoved Simon into a wooden pillar. Simon gasped as a strong grip clamped around his throat. It only got worse from there. The man pulled a large knife from his belt and Simon's eyes widened as he felt him run the flat of the blade across his check, down his shoulder and arm. "Where is that no-good reptile hidin' hisself? You tell me, boy, or I'm a' cut off every last bit a' your good looks."

With a motion quicker than the other man likely expected from him, Simon swung out and smashed the clay bottle into the blindside of his attacker's face. He never got to appreciate the small victory though. Simon yelped in pain as the man reared back causing his knife to carve a long gash across his forearm.

The man batted the jagged remains of the bottle from his hand and brutally head-butted the Doctor, shooting his head back hard against the pillar for good measure. White spots filled Simon's vision even as the man punched him in the gut, forcing the air from his lungs and dropping him to his knees.

His attacker chuckled above him and Simon wanted nothing more than to glare defiantly at the man and wipe the amused grin from his face. Unfortunately he was too busy reminding his lungs that they needed to take in air.

"Not done yet, youngin'," the man told him, clearly amused that he would even try attacking him and Simon felt angrier still. Then he felt the point of the blade resting above his eyebrow and he tried to swallow back the fear that took him. "That's gonna cost you an eye."

For a moment Simon considered closing his eyes and denying this was happening. It didn't last. Instead he glared up at his attacker, biting back the pain as the knife dug deeper. He may have been helpless at the moment, but that didn't mean he had to go quietly to his death. He would deny this man the pleasure of seeing his fear and pain.

Then something happened that drove the man's attention from him. "Jayne! Jayne! Jayne!" coursed in from the street. For a moment Simon watched as the man's gaze shifted from him to the door and back again, before he tugged Simon to his feet. "Come on."

--o--o--o--

Jayne stood at the base of his statue in the square surrounded by Mudders. It seemed like the whole town had come out for the impromptu Jayne Day Celebration. His chest puffed out with pride as they cheered his name. This was something he could get used too. And as a bonus, he got to be a hero for an accident rather than hard work and selflessness. Can't get any better than that.

As the kid from last night, he still had no idea what his name was, came into the circle that had formed around Jayne and tried to silence the crowd, he saw Mal and Kaylee standing near the back. Mal gave him a nod and Jayne knew what that meant; his distraction had done the trick and the cargo was back on the ship. He knew at this point he was supposed to make an excuse to get away so they could leave this rock as fast as possible. Preferably before anyone discovered what they were really up to.

Without catching them with the cargo, or anyone even really knowing about it, Jayne figured that chances of getting caught now were pretty much zilch. So what would the harm be in soaking up the attention for a little while longer?

The kid finally managed to silence the crowd and for a moment Jayne missed the cries of his name. Then the kid said loudly, "Speech!" And a new chant was started by the crowd. Jayne gulped loudly. He had always hated public speaking, but who was he to disappoint his fans?

"Ah– Well– Uhmm–" Jayne stumbled to start. "I'm no good with words. Don't use 'em much, myself." A round of laughter went through the crowd and Jayne straightened and continued more confidently. "But I want to thank y'all, for bein' here, and for thinking so much of me. Far as I see it, you people have been given the shortest end of a stick ever offered a human soul in this crap-heel 'verse, but you took that end, and you, you know..." He searched for the right words but nothing came to mind so he just nodded at the crowd. "Well, you took it. And that's, I guess that's somethin'."

He saw Kaylee and Mal exchange words and look at him shocked for some reason. There was no time to dwell on it as shotgun blast rung through the air, cutting off the applause. The crowd parted and Jayne saw the face of a man he never thought he would see again. He was thinner than Jayne remembered and didn't have the beard last time he saw him, or the scars and missing eye for that matter, but even through the dirt and grime he recognized his old partner. The one he had left behind the last time he was on Higgin's Moon; Stitch Hessian.

In one hand Stitch held that old shotgun he had used in their jobs and in the other he was holding up the Doc by the collar of his shirt. If it had been any other situation he probably would have grinned at seeing the Doc with a bloodied face and bloodier arm just barely holding on to consciousness. This wasn't the time for that.

He was surprised to see Stitch again. Jayne figured the fall from the shuttle would have killed him. What he wasn't surprised to see was that the man had bested the Doc. Reluctantly, Jayne could admit, when there was nobody to hear, that the Doc wasn't a weak man, but even on his best day he doubted a man like Simon could take someone like Stitch on his worst.

"Stitch Hessian," Jayne acknowledged as Simon was tossed to the ground.

"Hey there, Jayne." Stitch's tone was almost conversational before hardening. "Thought I'd make ya watch while I butcher me one a' your boys."

Jayne looked down at the Doc's sprawled form, raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "Ain't one a mine, Stitch."

Stitch looked doubtful but Jayne didn't care. He just laughed at him and tried to goad him into getting this over with. "Where you been hidin'? You gone and got yourself lookin' mighty hideous."

Stitch just laughed back and walked past the Doc to square off in front of him. As soon as Stitch went by Jayne saw Kaylee rush over to Simon and pull him into her lap, but he didn't pay it any heed. He kept his eyes firmly on Stitch.

"So what's this 'bout the 'Hero a' Canton'?" Stitch said mockingly. "Was I hearin' that right? Four years in lock-down can play tricks on the ears."

"Ain't no hero, Stitch. Just a workin' stiff like yourself."

"Whoo! Yessir! Now that is funny." Stitch laughed loudly, but it was devoid of any real humour; coming across as a mocking sound. He turned his attention to the crowd. "Yep. He's right, Jayne is. Fact, we used to work together, he an' I."

Stitch never took his eyes off of him as he pointed the shotgun off to the side, stopping Mal in his tracks as he made his way over to help. That movement alone told Jayne that four years locked up or not, Stitch was as dangerous a man as ever.

"Now you let ol' Stitch speak his piece."

Reluctantly Mal raised his hands and backed up. "Go on, then."

"Whole lotta money inna Magistrate's safe, weren't there, Jayne?" Stitch said loudly, turning slightly to the crowd. "Got away clean too. But then our plane took a hit, an' we were goin' down. Dumped the fuel reserve, dumped the life support, hell, we even dumped the seats. Then there was Jayne, the money and me. And there was no way  
he was gonna drop that money."

"He did! He dropped it on the Mudders!" the kid whole started the speech cheer yelled and stepped to the front of the crowd. Jayne couldn't believe it. Didn't the idiot realize it was a bad move to annoy a man with a shotgun who had every intention of using it?

"By accident, you inbred dunghead!" Stitch snarled back. "He  
tossed me out first! We run together six months and he turned on me 'fore I could scream."

"You'd'a done the same," Jayne told him and as far as he was concerned he would have. Even when he had worked with Stitch he hadn't trusted him. There had always been a look in the man's eyes whenever the violence started that Jayne easily recognized. It was the same one he saw in the mirror. The fact is, you don't put a killer at your back without expecting to get shot in it eventually.

"Not ever!" Stitch denied. "You _protect_ the man you're with! You watch his _back_! Everybody knows that, 'cept the 'Hero of Canton'," he finished mockingly.

Jayne spared a glance for the crowd and caught the kid's gaze. His eyes were pleading, begging him to deny it and be the man he had built him up to be. Jayne broke the contact instead, and turned his full attention to Stitch.

"You gonna talk me to death, buddy? That the plan?"

"This is the plan," Stitch said as he raised his shotgun. Jayne hand was moving for the knife sheath at the small of his back, but he knew he wouldn't make it. He was fast, but not that fast. There was a reason he preferred to be the guy with the gun rather than the man who brought the knife to a gunfight.

The boom of the blast was loud and echoed like thunder in his ears. He felt the warmth of the blood on his face and recognized the coppery taste of the droplets that made it into his mouth. It was nearly a full second before he realized the blood wasn't his and the thud he heard wasn't his body hitting the ground.

Jayne glanced down even as he let the knife fly. The kid was on the ground in front of him, a gory sight with the gaping hole in his chest. His face set in a grim line and he focused back on Stitch.

The knife hadn't even knocked the bastard down as it imbedded itself in his chest, but at least it he dropped the gun. Jayne nearly growled and launched himself forward and Stitch did the same, meeting him half way. The two collided, neither falling down or losing ground.

Jayne's fingers wrapped around the hilt of the knife and Stitch gripped his wrist to stop him from retrieving it. That was fine by Jayne; he had no intention of pulling it out yet. He twisted the blade causing Stitch to hiss in pain that was practically music to Jayne's ears.

With a sharp jerk Jayne pulled the knife free from Stitch's weakened grip. He almost grinned in triumph when the weapon was knocked from his hand. That was exactly where he wanted Stitch's attention and he lashed out with a low kick. There was a satisfying pop as the knee gave way and Stitch started to tumble over, only for Jayne to catch him by the back of his shirt and throw him head first into the statue.

Jayne was on him again before the other man could even start to pull himself up. In a smooth motion Jayne tightly gripped the back of Stitch's head and viciously hammered his face into the statue's boot. Over and over and over again face smashed into stone until it couldn't be recognized as having ever been human anymore and Jayne's hand was covered in blood. By the time Jayne finally let Stitch's body drop his arm was sore but he didn't care.

Slowly he stood and saw the crowd watching him silently, eyes wide. Jayne ignored them and knelt next to the kid's body. The kid. He jumped in front of a shotgun for him and Jayne still didn't even know his name.

"Get up you stupid piece a… Get up!" Jayne ordered. He gripped the front of the kid's shirt white knuckle tight. The shirt had been blue but look more like black now for all the blood that soaked it. "What'd you do that for?" he asked, shaking the body violently. "What's wrong with you? Didn't you hear a word he said? I'm a mean, dumb sommbitch! An' you don't take no bullets for a dumb sommbitch, you dumb sommbitch!"

"All of you!" Jayne growled turning to the crowd. "You think someone's just gonna drop money on ya? Money they could use? There ain't people like that! There's just people like me."

Jayne glared at the Mudders around him before hesitant footsteps caused him to twist to his right, ready to lash out at whoever was stupid enough to try and sneak up on him. Instead of an enemy he saw a sandy haired boy, no older than nine or ten, hesitantly holding out his knife, still soaked in Stitch's blood.

One look in the boy's eyes and Jayne knew the hesitance had nothing to do with fear. It was the same hero-worshipping look he had seen in the older kid's eyes and Jayne couldn't stand it anymore.

He snatched the knife from the boy's hands and stood. He covered the distance to the statue in a few purposeful strides and pushed as hard as he could. With a grunt of effort he threw his shoulder into it and heaved. The sound of the statue hitting the ground almost seemed louder than the shotgun's blast and most of the crowd flinched, though probably more from the act than the noise.

Everyone was still silent and Jayne could tell many of them were uneasy over what they had witnessed, but he could also tell nothing had really changed. He couldn't believe that after everything they had just see they were still looking at him with the same awe and respect they had the night before. Didn't these people realize he wasn't worth it? That he was never a hero and didn't want to be?

He had to get away. He couldn't take even looking at these idiots anymore. The crowd parted as he angrily strode past them in the direction of Serenity.

--o--o--o--

It's amazing the power four little words could have.

For a moment Xander was taken back to when he first met Buffy and he had mistakenly asked 'can I have you' and how foolish those words had sounded. He noted how similar it was to River's 'can I keep you' and how those would sound just as foolish from his lips as those he had spoken to Buffy back then. From River it came out like it was, a genuine, innocent and meaningful question.

He had no idea what to say to that. Sure he had thought about staying, but could he? He didn't have an answer for himself, so how could he give one to her. Fortunately River seemed to sense that and simply smiled up at him before laying her head back down.

That had been hours ago and still neither had said a word. Xander knew River hadn't gone back to sleep. She was just giving him time to think. He appreciated it and had done nothing but think about it since she poised the question.

For a year he had searched for a way home. After disappointment after disappointment, dead end after dead end, The Pride had been his last shot. At least, it was the last lead he had on a way home. He had heard rumours about Anton Walker in the first six months, but the more he heard about The Pride the less he had wanted anything to do with them. He never would have gone to them if he had had any options left.

Now he didn't even have that. As much as he didn't want to he believed what Anton had said about time travel he did. He knew temporal magic was extremely difficult and unpredictable for even the most powerful and skilled of sorcerers before he had even gone to him. By that point Xander hadn't cared. He still had his hope and knew Anton was supposed to be one of the more skilled mystics around in this time.

Besides, people tend to be more truthful with you when they think you're about to die anyway. Xander figured that right before he tried to sacrifice him was probably the most honest Anton had ever been with him.

That's why Xander thought he'd make a better big bad than most of the ones he and the gang came up against. He actually read the 'evil overlord list'. It had a lot of interesting things on it. Like, oh, maybe _not_ revealing your master plan before you kill the good guy only for them to somehow get free and do the last minute save thing. Made sense really.

So, with all his leads at a dead end, the question was 'what happened now'? His mind went back to the conversation he had with Mal. The Captain had offered him a place here. Maybe that was exactly what he needed, a place to belong. Not to mention that, with how much Serenity got around, it was possible he could find another lead on a way home.

But what about River?

If he stayed Xander knew something would happen between them. She liked him and he felt drawn to her. He wouldn't be able to resist that draw forever if he accepted the offer. It would make leaving harder, maybe even impossible, if the chance ever did present itself. Still, could he really give up living his life for the _chance_ something _might_ come along one day?

Plus, he really did like River. Oh, not enough for the marriage he was in to be sure, but he found that he liked her far more than he had allowed himself to like anyone in a long time.

She was a study of contradiction. She was innocent and weary, knowledgeable and naive, vulnerable yet with a strength about her he couldn't define; she was all these things and more, all at the same time.

Laying here with River he felt, if not outright happiness, than content. When was the last time he had felt that? Not in the year since he'd been searching the black for a way home. Not even before that really. He'd lead the charge at graduation, and yes the saved the world again, but they lost so many students that day. Blood on his hands as far as he was concerned. Regardless of the fact that they all worked on the graduation night plan, _h__e_ had worked out most of the students' part in their plan; _he_ had assigned their positions; _he_ had called out the orders in the battle to protect the parents and distract snake-mayor from the real plan, the bomb. His fault.

Logically he knew different. The other students had all chosen to fight because they knew something wasn't right with the town, or to protect their families, or even respect for Buffy and the gang and what they did. They had also known they wouldn't all be coming back and helped anyway. Logically he knew all that, but logic rarely has a place with guilt.

It was one of the reasons he decided to take the road trip to begin with. He needed time away to get his head on straight and with the usual summer lull he could do that without feeling like he was abandoning his friends.

He had no way of knowing any of this would happen. It felt like a betrayal to their memory to him, to feel any contentment at all when they're all gone and forgotten; died long ago believing he betrayed them.

But, would the friends he remembered really want this type of life for him? A life where he stole and made deals with the type of people that made his skin crawl and his instincts scream to fight against. A life of desperately searching for something he would probably never find.

Probably not.

Maybe it was time to try and heal a few wounds. He didn't have to give up on his search altogether, but maybe he should acknowledge that he was probably here for the long haul. That it was time to move on with his life. Easier said then done, but maybe not as difficult as he made it out to be either.

After a year of constant travel he had no desire to stay in one place too long. With Mal's offer he could still travel and see the 'verse, and continue his search. And he wouldn't have to be alone anymore. He liked the crew of Serenity even though he barely knew them. Wash was fun to joke around with and Kaylee's cheer was almost infectious. That Jayne guy saved his life from The Pride and Simon saved him from a bullet. Hard not to like that.

With the Captain, well the two of them had bonded somewhat over their unexpected marriages. There was something about the man that seemed familiar to Xander, though he couldn't place exactly what. All he really knew was that his instincts told him to trust the man and Xander was the type to follow his instincts whenever he could.

He hadn't been around Inara, Zoe, and Book much yet, but from the times he had Xander found he liked them too. He wouldn't mind getting to know any of them better.

That just left River and he definitely would not mind knowing her better. At first he felt that giving in would, on top of giving up on his search, seem like he was taking advantage of a girl who wasn't all there. And, to be honest, she wasn't, but the more Xander got to know her the more he realized she understood what was going on between them better than _he_ did.

He started to see her as a beautiful, intelligent, charming girl who took in more of what was around her that people probably realized. He found he wanted to know the girl under the scattered surface. They were both damaged in their own ways, but maybe they could help fix each other.

Xander gently stroked River's dark hair and she raised her eyes to meet his. "We take things slow," he told her simply. The brilliant smile he got brought one to his own lips and told him he had made the right decision. Wherever this would lead he wanted to find out.

Yes, it really was amazing the power four little words could have.


	5. A Lack of Understanding

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

--o--o--o--

Wash frantically flipped a pair of switches on the far side of the console, when that did nothing he flipped them a few more times for good measure. They had absolutely nothing to do with his current problem, but he'd tried pretty much everything else at this point so he figure what the heck, it's worth a shot.

Still nothing. He glared down at a small screen trying to will the obnoxious red 'land-lock engaged' away.

"Wash, we're in," Mal's voice crackled through the intercom, making Wash jump at the sudden noise. "Get us the hell offa this mud-ball."

"Uh… Yeah... I'm… umm… workin' on that," Wash awkwardly sent back. At a loss, he figured he'd give the universal fix-it method a try. He started smacking the side of the console, praying Kaylee never found out he was abusing her baby. "Gao yang jong duh goo yang."

With only a sore hand for his efforts Wash lent back in his chair and sent the screen another dirty look.

"Hello, Wash. Has there been any problem with take-off?" For the second time in as many minutes Wash jumped at the unexpected sound of a person's voice. He hadn't realized Inara had landed already, even though he had cleared her moments before the land-lock problem sidetracked him, let alone heard her enter the bridge.

"Is there a problem?" Wash exclaimed and started throwing more switches and pressing random buttons. "Is there a problem?!" Suddenly the red lettering was gone, replaced by a calming green that red 'land-lock released'.

Wash sat up straight and blinked owlishly at the screen. "Uh, no. We're fine," he finished coolly.

--o--o--o--

"You did What!?" Magristrate Higgins growled. His son sat at the table with a relaxed posture he had never seen in the boy. He paced behind him, glaring at the back his head before making his way around and looming over him and holding his gaze. Fess stared back at him with a casual confidence, a defiance that hadn't been there before. He blamed the girl for this! He never should have brought her here.

"I sent an override to Port Control," Fess told him calmly. "Lifted the land-lock on Serenity."

Higgins' face flushed red with rage and his glare intensified. "I ought to tear that smile off your head! How dare you defy me! You… You…" he sputtered.

"You wanted to make a man of me, Dad." Fess leaned back in his chair and rested his hands on the back of his head with a smirk. "I guess it worked."

--o--o--o--

Simon sat on his bed, his arm freshly bandaged. The gash stung like hell, but it wasn't deep enough to need stitches. Right now he was more concerned with keeping the blush off his face as Kaylee leaned in close and gently cleaned out and applied a bandage to a small cut over his eye. His gaze was locked firmly on her nose. Noses were safe. You couldn't get lost in them like eyes or get caught staring at less appropriate places.

They hadn't spoken since coming back to the ship, but that didn't matter to Simon. He was only too glad to stay silent. It seemed like he always said the wrong thing the more he spoke with Kaylee, and he had already upset her enough for one day.

The silence couldn't last though, and eventually Kaylee finished, smoothing the bandage before running her hand through his hair and cupping his cheek. "Can't be letting men stomp on you so much."

Simon felt his cheeks burn as he lost the battle not to blush. "It wasn't exactly the plan."

"You ain't weak. You couldn't beat him back? Or would that not be _appropriate_?" Simon cringed at the emphasis on the last word.

"You're never letting go of that, are you?"

"Well you confound me some, is all," Kaylee said and raised his chin so she could meet his eyes. "You like me well enough, we get along, and then you go all stiff."

"I'm not– I didn't–"

"See?" she exclaimed and dropped her hand. "You're doing it right now. What's so damn important about bein' proper? Don't mean nothin' out here in the black."

"It means more out here," Simon told her, unsure how to explain exactly what he meant but just letting the words come. Maybe not thinking so much about what he wanted to say could get him out of trouble for a change. "It's all I have. My way of being, polite or however, it's the only way I have of showing you that I like you. Of showing respect."

Kaylee looked down shyly and grabbed both his hands in hers. "So when we made love last night…"

"When we _what_?" Simon sputtered.

Kaylee laughed and looked back up, her eyes alight with mischief. "You really are such an easy mark." She grinned at him and Simon found himself smiling back. Looks like he was able to say the right thing after all.

--o--o--o--

Mal shook his head as he left the bridge. Something didn't seem right there. Wash just seemed… shifty for some reason. He couldn't quite put his finger on it though.

He made his way towards the cargo bay and pushed the thought out of his mind. They were still flying and, more importantly, heading away from anyone who likely wanted to put some new holes in them. At least the ones who wanted to at this moment anyways.

Jayne was still were he left him; leaning on the railing on the catwalk overlooking the cargo bay. He was staring blankly at the airlock doors across from him, his features set in a grim line. Jayne had never been a great conversationalist, but he had been particularly quite since they made it back on Serenity, even for him.

For a moment Mal considered just bypassing the man and checking on their cargo like he had planned. Instead he walked over beside Jayne and rested his forearms casually on the railing. He didn't say anything though, or even look over at him. Neither of them were exactly the sharing type. If Jayne felt like talking about it he would. If he didn't, well, that was his business.

Several long minutes went by in silence, and Mal was just about to leave when Jayne spoke. "Don't make no sense," he told him. "Why the hell'd that Mudder go an do that, Mal? Jumpin' in front a' that shotgun blast. Weren't a one of them understood what happened out there. Hell, they're probably stickin' that statue right back up."

Mal didn't know what to tell him. He knew that when you believed in something, or someone, that you did things that didn't otherwise make sense. During the war he had been a believer in the cause and did more than a few crazy things fighting for independence. Things that, looking back, seemed foolish. Still he didn't know how to explain it to Jayne, at least, not in a way that would make sense.

Instead he just nodded and said, "Most like," because that was probably exactly what the Mudders were doing.

"Don't know why that eats at me so."

Finally Mal felt like he had found the right words. Or, at least, close enough. "It's my estimation that every man ever got a statue made of him was one kind of sommbitch or another," he told Jayne and turned to face him, the first either had looked at the other since they started talking. "Ain't about you, Jayne. 'Bout what they need.

"Don't make no sense," Jayne said after a moment and Mal had to agree. In his experience people rarely did. The ones who seemed to were the ones you really had to worry about.

They stood there silently for a few more minutes before Jayne turned to him and gave a curt nod before heading in the direction of his bunk. He figure that was the closest he'd get to a 'thanks' from Jayne.

Mal didn't turn to watch him go though. Instead he watched as his latest passenger crawled out of one of the ships hide holes. As soon as he was all the way out Xander bent down and offered his hand to someone inside. Then River was on her feet and Mal's eyebrows nearly shot up when he saw the two teenagers smile at each other and walk towards the common area, still hand in hand.

They didn't get very far before Xander lost his balance and would have fallen over if not for River taking more of the young man's weight than Mal had thought she was capable of. Standing back up, though still leaning heavily on River, Xander glanced upward and noticed his audience.

Mal saw the boy's eyes turn serious as their gazes met and after a moment Xander simply nodded. He took it as both an acknowledgement of his presence and an answer to his question. He nodded back and the boy limped off with River towards the med bay.

"Things certainly seem to be progressing there," Inara noted as she came to stand beside him.

"It's a development."

Normally when Inara came back from Companioning he would make a crass comment about how her 'whoring' went, if for no other reason than to get a rise out of her. He wasn't feeling up to it right now. Instead he continued to stare at the spot the two kids had been.

"What is it about him that fascinates you so much?" Inara asked.

Mal knew what she was talking about, but he played dumb anyways. "Who fascinates who now?"

"Mal," she said patiently. "You're not as bad a man as you like to think, so I know you would have saved him on Beaumonde regardless, but why did you take Xander on at Triumph to begin with? Aren't you the one who said passengers had become too much trouble to bother with?"

He didn't meet her searching gaze, just continued to stare ahead. Mal didn't interrupt her either, so Inara went on. "Then you offer him a place on the crew, not once, but twice. That's twice more than most people and one more than anyone else on Serenity. What is it about him, Mal?"

Mal stayed silent and couldn't help but think how it had been Jayne here like this not long ago. Inara was a bit more to the point than he had been with the bigger man though.

"Do you know him from somewhere?" she pressed on. "Or is it just that he holds himself a lot like you do? A kindred spirit of sorts?"

"Just seemed like he'd be a good fit, is all," he told her. "If nothing else, he's good for the little one."

It was true enough, even if there was more too it than that. Then he heard her sigh and the rustle of fabric as she turned away.

"Alright," she said simply as she walked away. Obviously she knew that was only a half-truth, but how could he explain to her something he wasn't sure about himself?

He didn't know what had possessed him to offer the kid a place on his crew. Mal had just followed his instincts. He just knew that this was where the kid was supposed to be, even if he couldn't put his finger on exactly why. From the few interactions he'd had with the crew so far, it really did seemed like Xander fit well though.

And maybe there was some truth in what Inara had said. The truth was that he did see some of himself in Xander. Whether that was a good thing or not he wasn't sure, but he did.

Whatever the reason, he had made the offer and apparently Xander had taken it. His gut told him things were going to get very interesting on Serenity in the near future.

--o--o--o--

--o--o--o--

Well, there it is. The third episode is done. Admittedly, mostly my interpretation of Jaynestown with Xander scenes added, but I did do it this way for a reason. It won't be as apparent in the next episode, but starting the one after that this contributes to a running Jayne subplot, and to a few other planned subplots later on.

Coming soon

Lost in Serenity  
Episode 4  
Balancing Act

A supernatural being on Persephone is countering every good deed by a local priest with an act of evil. Meanwhile, Xander comes face to face with a figure from his past. His distant past.


End file.
